


Say Pal...

by dukeofvaults (BakuraVonBocks)



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Not sure who else will be in, Will edit as I go on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 14:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13237482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakuraVonBocks/pseuds/dukeofvaults
Summary: It all started with those words. Those two words would be the start of something big. Something so huge that it was impossible to solve. Something that could’ve been avoided. Something that Wilson would regret for the rest of his life.





	Say Pal...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome to my first fanfiction I've written in... more than a year! Most importantly, my first Don't Starve fanfiction!
> 
> I'm not sure what I'll throw in here, or who will be in definitely, so if I need to change the tags as I go I will!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will cover the Origin Trailer for Don't Starve. It is my transcription and depiction of it, and it will be what introduces us to the story! Hope you enjoy!

_“Say pal...”_

 

It all started with those words. Those two words would be the start of something big. Something so huge that it was impossible to solve. Something that _could’ve_ been avoided. Something that Wilson would regret for the rest of his life.

A man with peculiar hair, oddly assuming the shape of a W, was hard at work on his latest project. Dressed down in a red vest, over a white dress shirt, the man wasn’t well prepared for his experimentation. In fact, he was practically mixing different solutions together, hoping that it would make something. Just _dreaming_ that it would make something big! That he could prove to his family that he _was_ a genius and that they were _wrong_.

This man was Wilson P. Higgsbury, self proclaimed scientist. And what was the project that he was working on? Well.. He didn't quite know. He never usually did. He always threw things together and hoped they’d work, and when they did he’d always make a note of what he had done. When they didn’t, well… They’d blow up in his face. Quite literally. It was a shock on how his house hadn’t blown itself to bits, considering how flammable the old, rickety thing was. And when the solutions would blow up in his face, Wilson would restart the entire process until he did **_something_ ** that satisfied himself.

Often, he’d bring in dead birds to his home, attempting to make potions to pour down their gullets. Why? Well, he wanted to see what they would do. Sometimes, it would do something. Other times, it would burn a hole through the carcass, dripping onto the floor to burn through. Then, Wilson would have to throw the damn thing out the window before any more of the house could be damaged. Birds were about the easiest thing for him to get ahold of, so there were no other dead animals around his home. Just birds with acid burnt throats, or birds with exploded guts, or plain dead birds that sat around the old home. How he even got the birds was a mystery itself, as the man never actually went out for game. In fact, he had never hunted before in his life. How he managed to **live** by himself in the woods was an even bigger mystery.

It had been his last “experiment” of the day, and Wilson had about enough of it all. The solutions he had poured together, using a slender beaker to pour into a wide beaker, blown up in his face. This time, he was lucky enough to have been holding it away from anything too flammable. Disappointed and aggravated that nothing had been going his way, he sat down in his red chair, holding his head in his hands. He wanted things to go his way. He wanted to do **something** that wouldn’t blow up in his face! He wanted to be the actual scientist that he claimed himself to be! Was it really that hard? He thought he had read all the books he had on the topic. Well… perhaps he skimmed through them. But, he still retained information! So, why wasn’t anything working? All he wanted was-

 

And there it was, he heard the voice. **_“Say pal..”_ **

… Did the radio speak?

Turning his attention to the radio, Wilson stared at it in a befuddled manner. His radio spoke to him! It called him ‘pal’, of all things! Before Wilson could even open his mouth to reply, the radio continued. “Looks like you’re having some trouble!” By god, this radio knew an awful lot for being a plain old radio.

“I have secret knowledge I can share with you,” Wilson shot out of his chair, snatching up the electronic. “If you think you are ready for it.” He eagerly nodded at the radio. Anything, he would accept anything! If it would better him, he would accept anything! He didn’t even think about the consequences, he just wanted to know.

Plus, how untrustworthy could a radio be? It was only gears and wires, it’s not like it would **hurt** him… right?

There was a pause. Silence was shared between Wilson and his, new pal, radio. The radio suddenly spoke, it’s voice sounding familiar yet… unknown. It crackled, “Ok then!” And everything hit Wilson at once.

 

Equations. Graphs. Calculations. Visions. Hell, Wilson was sure he even saw coordinates! It was so much to take in all at once, and it was a damn surprise he didn’t pass out from an overload. The information was so much, but not too much. In fact, it gave a perfect, clear picture of what Wilson could do. What he could build and make. It was his **something!** He was absolutely sure of it!

And so, Wilson went to work. With the aid of his radio barking instructions to him, he didn't mind. He didn’t care. In fact, he didn’t even **know** what he was doing, let alone building. Wrapping mice together, furiously typing on a typewriter, screwing in screws and hitting things with hammers, and sacrificing some of his own _blood_ ; none of these things had anything in common! Yet, it was all apart of the procedure. And Wilson complied.

 

“Excellent! Now, throw the switch!” Finally, the work was finished. Before Wilson stood a enormous machine, twice the size of himself. Which, wasn’t hard, as Wilson was a short man in general. But the fact that he had been able to build such a thing would give him so much. He stepped to the switch, then stopped. He was actually thinking for once.

“Hold on, what does this even do-” He was cut off, as the radio practically screamed at him.

**“DO IT!”**

Wilson quickly did as he was told. The machine began to move, shifting it’s wooden parts and plates. It began to resemble a man’s face, a certain smile. As the machine bagan to whirr, Wilson backed away, no longer proud of what he had created. Loud laughter filled the air, no longer sounding as if it were coming from the radio. It was if there was someone else in the room, cackling at the mistake the self proclaimed scientist had made. Standing horrified in the center of the room, Wilson didn’t know what else to do. Who was there? What was that?

A suddenly, sharp jerk came from his legs and Wilson looked down. Oh, god. A shadowy hand began to wrap itself around Wilson, followed by a second hand. He struggled, trying to worm his way out of it’s grip, but it was no use. Extending one hand, Wilson tried to hold onto something as he was being yanked down. And everything went black.

 

Stirring awake, Wilson felt a presence staring him down. His head pounded, as if he had whacked it on something hard, and he didn’t want to open his eyes. A light breeze sweep over him, and he heard a voice.

“Say pal, you don’t look so good.” It was the radio’s voice. Except… much more clear, and not as static filled. Wilson struggled to sit up, wanting to find source of the voice. “You better find something to eat _before night comes_.”


End file.
